The Other Brothers Grimm
by Mind in the Ankh
Summary: Not believing Will and Jake's stories of the enchanted forest, their younger brother Ferdinand plans to give the monster hunters a taste of their own medicine. Will Ferdi pull it off? Or will his plan backfire?
1. Verleger

Author's Notes: This may be slightly AU. It certainly isn't true to the Grimm family's real lives.

Geld is the German word for money.

Gilliam and company own the movie, the Grimms own themselves.

* * *

Ferdinand Grimm was happy being a publisher. Really. So his oldest two brothers had thrown away their educations to become folk heroes. Carl's business hadn't worked, either, and neither of the two younger boys were nearly as smart as Jakob and Wilhelm were, nor did they possess the artistic talents of their littlest brother, Ludwig. Ferdi could almost admit that without bitterness now.

Ferdinand still had his health, at least. That was more than Jake, his small, studious, absentminded eldest brother could ever really say he had. And if Jake's latest tale could be believed, the infamous Grimm duo was risking life-threatening injuries out there.

Sure, Ferdi was skeptical of the whole ancient witch and magic mirror spiel, having published too many fairy tales like it, but he could easily believe that the French invaders were tracking the self-proclaimed "monster hunters." They had always been too outspoken for their own good. It was practically a family tradition to be so. He would have offered his brothers a bit of money to tide them over until the ruckus died down, but Ferdinand himself was running low on Geld. The invaders had threatened to close his publishing house a time or two, once they had heard about his relation to Jake and Will. Only by swearing upon his prized bible, the first book he had ever printed, that he would never hide enemies of the state in his home, had Ferdinand managed to keep his source of income open. And still, he had French soldiers snooping about the shop every other week. It made Ferdinand afraid to try to print any more copies of Jakob's beloved book of German fairy tales.

He hated to think of what Carl was going through right now. The third brother was teaching languages back in Kassel, having lost all the money he had poured into his business. The French were doubtlessly grilling him just as hard for information, and Carl had never been as strong of a personality as his siblings, especially after his financial catastrophe.

Ferdi was not too worried about Ludwig or Lotte. Ludwig could paint anywhere, and he was good enough at it that the French occupation might turn a blind eye to his more distasteful relations. Although Charlotte, like Jakob and Carl, had never been a very healthy individual, she was not likely to be questioned very hard. Who would believe such a petite, pale little wisp of a girl, disfigured and permanently weakened by childhood illness, was capable of treason?

Ferdinand might. If their rapscallion eldest brothers came to her seeking aid, Lotte would hide Jake and Will in her household, and defend their actions to the death. _They are heroes, Ferdi! They protect the German people from the monsters from France and the monsters in their heads, if not real monsters out of tales, as well._ He could hear his little sister's spirited defense already.

Ferdinand was not quite so sure about all that. Real heroes did not charge quite so much for their services, in his opinion. Real heroes did not lie about their purposes.

Ferdinand understood that there were times to lie. In the presence of French soldiers was one of those times. But to lie to good German citizens of Westphalia? Ferdi often wondered how well their father's lessons about justice had stuck. Lotte knew them well, and she had hardly been much more than a baby when their Papa died, leaving their harried mother to raise six children by herself. Her elder brothers had told her about the virtues of truthfulness often enough, and generally, they tried to set a good example. But Jakob was too fond of his flights of fantasy, and Wilhelm was a schemer at heart. How could they have taken Papa's lessons to heart?

The younger four had, at least. Or at least, Ferdinand thought so. He and Carl had gone through the ups and downs of the business market without complaint or falsehood, and Ludwig had put his imagination to good use with his artwork. Such things seemed almost as silly as Jake's fairy tales at times, but Ludwig was also capable of making paintings that seemed to all but walk off the page and greet you. The youngest boy walked the line between reality and falsehood at times, but Ludwig knew the difference between the two. Ferdi wasn't sure that Jake and Will did anymore.

The publisher studied the letters his eldest brothers had sent him, and the attached text. They wrote up their adventures sometimes, (adding plenty of things to make themselves look good, Ferdinand was sure,) and sent them to Ferdi to be published in little chapbooks and bigger fairy tale collections. These books earned all three brothers a pretty penny, especially if they contacted Ludwig to illustrate them for the masses. But under these conditions, Ferdinand was afraid to publish their latest adventure. No amount of Francs the book might earn was worth the trouble it would bring upon his head if he tried sell it on the black market, and he doubted that Napoleon's government would be especially pleased if he sold it legally, either. The French did not want to hear stories of Germanic heroes right now. They did not want the dream of a free, united Germany to gain any more champions. Ferdinand was much better off sticking to bibles, governmental papers, and the occasional uncriticizing collegiate essay.

But Jake needed a new copy of his book. The eldest brother kept a handwritten journal of his adventures and the stories that he'd picked up from governesses, nursemaids, and old men in pubs along the way. Jakob sent updates on this notebook regularly to Ferdinand, so that his records of these stories would be saved for posterity. Now, Jake had written, his book had been burned in a forest fire. (He had said that he and Wilhelm had nearly been burned at stake in said fire, but Ferdi wasn't sure he believed Jakob.) Now, Jake needed another copy, with plenty of extra pages in the back for their further evandors.

Part of Ferdinand wanted to turn him down. Jakob could very well buy himself a new notebook. If he had forgotten a few stories, it was no great loss. Ferdi was sure that he had published most of them in one volume or another for his brothers, anyway. But still, whether he liked what they were doing or not, whether they were running from the French government or not, whether they lied about their adventures or not, Jake and Will were family. He owed them the chance to follow their dreams, if they could. Besides, the incorrigible German patriot in him savored this chance to spit in the face of the French invaders. Very well then, Ferdi would print one copy of the tales of the brothers Grimm for the man who had lived through them. He knew he was not as clever as he would like to be.

_But Will, though,_ Ferdinand thought, looking at the other letter, _Will is too clever by half_. During one of their periods of wealth, the second, largest brother had designed and paid for two suits of shiny tinfoil armor. The suits would probably have trouble defending a man from bird droppings, but Will insisted they made them look like real professional monster hunters. He said they had paid for themselves a hundredfold in increased profits. Ferdi thought they made his brothers look more like professional fops. Riding into poor villages in their blindingly shiny armor, with retinue and mysterious "monster hunting tools" in tow, Ferdinand would not be surprised if some unfortunate rustic was impressed at their display enough to offer them money. Still, the practice went against his better sensibilities. It was such a shame that Wilhelm chose to turn his great mind to tricking peasants for money. They were all getting taxed enough to fuel Napoleon's war, were they not?

The second brother was highly protective of his family. Will had always been the biggest and smartest sibling, at least outside of the classroom. Since Jake had been teased mercilessly by his peers, and was too scrawny to fight back, it was often up to Will to protect the rest of the boys from bullies and swindlers. While guarding them from such evils, Wilhelm had learned and occasionally adopted the practices of his enemies. While his loyalty to his family was unquestionable, Will's level of patriotism left something to be desired, in Ferdinand's opinion.

This letter almost made Ferdinand wonder about even Will's unquestionable familial loyalty. Will, usually sober and sensible about the truths behind their "monster encounters" in his letters home, had at least as many fanciful descriptions concerning their latest quest as Jakob did. Twelve sleeping maidens sentenced to die during the eclipsed full moon? As if Ferdinand believed in curses and spells. Moving trees and man-eating horses? Ferdi was beginning to wonder if said full moon was not beginning to drive his brothers a bit loony. Werewolves! Really! Wilhelm was probably trying to get money out of him. Ferdinand would have to show him that he was not one of Will's darling credulous peasants. He might not be as smart as his older brothers were, but Ferdi was not stupid.

But how best to reprimand Will? He did not honestly want to hurt his brothers, nor turn them in to the French army, but Ferdi wanted to shock them back into reality. What these two needed was a taste of their own medicine. Ferdinand did not have the resources or brains of his brothers, but he did have his brothers and their resources to call upon. It was decided, then. Ferdinand would make a few visits to Carl, Ludwig, and perhaps a few of Will and Jake's former employees, spend a bit of the money he had been saving for another press on a few other necessities, and then invite Jakob and Wilhelm home to pick up a new copy of Jake's book. When they came, Ferdi would have a real ghost for the great monster hunters.

Perhaps he would even have another story to publish.


	2. Komplott

A/N: I own nothing. You can't make this big a family up. Tante is German for aunt.

* * *

"Freddi? Ferdinand Philipp Grimm, are you mad? Do you want to kill poor Jakob?" It had been difficult to arrange this meeting, and Ferdi hoped that his sister wouldn't give it away by her sudden burst of temper.

"I'd be more worried about Will, myself," Ludwig said sardonically. Even in this dusty library, far from his work, the youngest surviving Grimm brother's shirtsleeves were splattered with jaunty hues of blue and yellow paint. Could Ludwig not afford a proper dress shirt, Ferdinand wondered in a mix of irritation and worry, or was he simply too careless to notice?

"Come, Lotte, it's no worse than they've done to others," Ferdinand insisted. None of his siblings had appeared particularly enthused about his plan, although Carl and Ludwig were warming to the idea of some form of payback for the nonsense that the eldest two brothers had gotten away with over the years.

"But it's cruel to sully the names of the dead like that. It makes you no better than they are," Charlotte fought back. "And besides… the beans…" She dipped pale fingers into her open palm, as if to count out invisible seeds. "You know how they are about it."

"Pah! What is it with them and their silly bean games? We'll scatter them all over the house, to make it more realistic." Ferdinand waved his sister's concerns away.

Carl coughed, gently, as if trying to get the others' attention. All too often his coughs had been raspier, louder; due to poor health rather than his unassuming mien. Ludwig nodded to him as the teacher pulled at his patched and fraying jacket sleeves. "You three are surely too young to remember it properly," Carl said softly, still reluctant to look them in the eye. It was a wonder he survived his lecture classes, as nervous as he was. "But surely you must remember some of it, if you would think to use it for revenge. The beans reference is no silly game for Jake and Wilhelm. It's a wonder we all made it through childhood, you know. Especially after Papa died." Carl paused, and Ferdi would have cut him off, were it not for Ludwig's hand on his arm. The third brother was easy to interrupt, and hard to get speaking again, but usually when he did say something, Carl had a point to make. "You know that there could have been more of us."

"Four brothers is about all a man can take, at times," Ferdinand grumbled.

"An amazement that Lotte can stand us all." Ludwig motioned for the eldest sibling present to continue.

Carl hestitated, but Ferdi, too, motioned for him to continue. "Mama sent Jake to sell the cow, so that we would have money for the doctor, when the fever infected us all. Tante Henriette helped us pay later, but Jake didn't come home with money that day. Some awful man had given him a fistful of beans for the cow; beans that he said were 'magical.' Jake thought they'd heal us, if Mama hadn't thrown them out the window. Will thought that Father and little Fredrick might have survived, if Jake had been quicker about getting the money and the doctor. It's a wonder that you made it, Lotte," Carl acknowledged.

"It's a wonder that we all did, Carl,"she replied, pale smile meeting pale smile. "But you see now, Ferdi, why I cannot condone such a trick?"

"It doesn't matter, Lotte." Ferdinand crossed his arms, feeling chilled despite the sunlight shining through the library's high windows. "I just want to make them see sense. Letters aren't working, so I must try something else. If words cannot convince them that truth is the best policy, let us see how the liars react to being lied to." He sighed, willing to offer at least a façade of sacrifice. His sister still appeared to be displeased with him. "I won't use Freddi then, if it bothers you so much. But they need a ghost to scare some sense into them."

"Perhaps we can create a ghost, then. But please, Ferdi, make it anonymous." Charlotte knew him too well.

"With your blessing, Lotte," Ferdinand bowed half-sardonically. "It's a pity that none of Will and Jake's craftsmen could meet us."

"Haven't you heard?" Ludwig raised an eyebrow, leaning against a shelf. "One of the Frenchmen's Italian flunkies arrested them for questioning. I'd be surprised if they've left any of Will's clever fellows alive." Carl grabbed at his throat, swallowing, and Charlotte paled.

"Are you sure this is such a good idea, Ferdi?" Carl asked. "The government may treat other tricksters the same."

"This isn't a scheme to cheat the government out of their overinflated taxes. This is a simple matter between family members. The French shall likely approve of us, given what our brothers have done." Ferdinand hoped he sounded much braver than he felt.

"Arrested for questioning" could very well translate into "tortured unto death," in less fancily worded terms. Why couldn't Jakob and Wilhelm have stuck with their original plan of listening to old governesses' stories instead of galvinating off across the countryside in search of "adventure?" Adventure might pay better, but books were less likely to get one arrested.

Ferdinand considered the texts that lined the walls around his siblings. Most were in French, with a few German texts pushed violently towards the rear, gathering dust. Well, perhaps that was not so. Books could be safe and sensible and appeal to all the right people, but they also had an ability that, if Ferdinand did not heavily deny the presence of the supernatural, he might have called magical. The rich and powerful could read and write books, dispensing information out over all of Europe. With knowledge of the written language, a man might pull himself out of poverty, even with limited or embarassing family connections. Writing had made Ferdinand's fortunes, such as they were, but it could also lead to his downfall, if he was not careful. He thought again of the copy that Jake had requested. Who would have thought a book of children's tales, many of which had already spread throughout France as well as the German states, could cause so much strife?

German literature was becoming increasingly harder to come by these days, as the language was out of favor with the French governors. Certainly, there were a fair number left that could read it; Kessel was hardly that backward. But children were learning French in school and saving German for home life. It was frightening to Ferdinand, to think that his language might be dying. It was even more frightening to the self-styled man of letters than the possibility of his own death by angered French authorites was. At least, should he die, he could get the last laugh at his trickster brothers.

"Are you with me, Carl? Ludwig? Lotte?" With varying degrees of nervousness, three heads nodded to the publisher in the library. "Then this is what we will do…"


End file.
